


Drowning in Fire

by fireandhoney



Series: Sherlock Inspired Poetry [10]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Fire, Johnlock inspired poetry, Love, M/M, Passion, Poetry, Sherlock inspired poetry, Water
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:33:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28182462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fireandhoney/pseuds/fireandhoney
Summary: There is something to be said about passion, and danger
Relationships: Johnlock, Sherlock Holmes & John Watson, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Series: Sherlock Inspired Poetry [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2064180





	Drowning in Fire

There is something deeply fascinating about what humans find calming and peaceful. Most people would agree that sitting by the fireplace or by a bonfire and watching the flames dance is relaxing, even beautiful. In a similar fashion, a lot of people spend thousands of dollars every year to travel just to see the ocean, just to witness the waves crashing onto the sandy beach or against a rocky cliff. This is strange, because if we take those elements alone, if we consider only wild water and open fire, those things are terrifying. They’re dangerous, threats to our survival. They should make us anxious, they should trigger our survival instincts and tell us to run, to escape, to shelter. Yet, humans find comfort in watching those strong forces of nature within confined spaces. A fire in a fireplace is contained, it’s a feral creature that’s been domesticated and cannot hurt us anymore. We’ve won, we have the power over it, and that is strangely peaceful. Same goes for the water: currents and waves from ashore are where they’re supposed to be, and we are safe from there, away. We also have the option to back off, to turn around and leave, and that makes us feel secure, dominating over the water from the land. This distance, this gap between us and the beasts, allows us to observe and enjoy the beauty of such fierce strengths, of these sources of destruction. We trust that they will stay in their place, stay in their role.

I believe it is this same feeling that makes us fall in love. It motivates us to forgo all that could go wrong, the obvious and clear dangers of such vulnerability and open-ness. Just like fire, just like deep water, love can easily get out of control and burn us, submerge us. But it is also profoundly fascinating, attracting, calming, peaceful. When we feel we have control over it, when we feel like we’re in charge, love isn’t as scary anymore. It feels possible, a world of opportunities, a place of quiet and acceptance, a safe oasis. We relish in this sentiment, we make sacrifices to chase it, we build walls to protect ourselves, and yet, all it takes is a tiny bit of ember, or a high tide, and it can all come crumbling down, a wildfire engulfing the forest, the tsunami demolishing everything in its path. Your bubble of safety, your metaphorical control, shattering like broken glass. Being betrayed by fire, water, or love. 

And we are left with disbelief and anger. At this thing that exists to destroy, but that we’d decided to trust. At ourselves, for not putting up more protection, for being naive, for having too much faith. For thinking that this weapon wouldn’t be loaded, that we would be the exception, that we were safe. Why did I not realize fire burns? Why didn’t I think I would drown? We go through so much pain, so much doubt, blaming ourselves for believing we could enjoy without consequences. 

And eventually, we start to forget. We remember we were hurt, but the intensity diminishes, and gradually, starts to fade. We were hurt, but maybe it wasn’t our fault? Maybe there was nothing that could have saved us, maybe these forces are just too powerful, maybe there is no way to fully contain them, but that doesn’t mean we should give up on them. The risk of burning doesn’t mean we should no longer lit the fireplace. The risk of waves doesn’t mean we should no longer lay on the beach. The risk of heartbreak doesn’t mean we should no longer love. We rebuild, learning from our past and our mistakes. Not always in a way to avoid repeating them, but enough to be conscious of the possibilities. Enough to remember that these things have the potential to hurt. 

And in a strange way, it makes them more peaceful. More deeply fascinating.

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't really Sherlock or Johnlock related, at least not directly, but it was inspired by them. In my head, they're both fire and water, danger and beauty at once. Opposites, but equal. Risk and adrenaline and wonder.


End file.
